


Dear Penthouse

by gollumgollum



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Multi, Pegging, Strap-Ons, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-23
Updated: 2011-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-27 22:51:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/300905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gollumgollum/pseuds/gollumgollum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ariadne walks in on Arthur and Eames having sex, and decides to do more than just watch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dear Penthouse

_They'd said to meet in Eames's room, dammit,_ Ariadne thinks, standing in the doorway to said room and blinking at the scene in front of her. They don't notice her at first, and Ariadne's feeling a little put out at the fact that they're fucking each others' brains out--put out, yes, but okay, maybe a little turned on as well. She leans her hip against the doorway and watches, the arms wrapped around her stomach loosening a bit as she does. It seems only fair that she should get something for her inconvenience.

Eames notices her first--she isn't sure when, exactly, only that one moment she's lost in the smooth slide of Arthur's hips between Eames's strong thighs, the next she's aware of a steady gaze on her. She returns it, almost a challenge, and without his eyes ever leaving hers he ducks his head, cheek against Arthur's, and whispers something through his growing smile against Arthur's ear. Arthur doesn't break his stride in the slightest; he keeps pressing relentlessly into Eames, but he does turn his head and look at her expectantly.

"Well?" Eames says, a little breathless and a lot amused. "Are you going to join us or are you just going to watch?"

Ariadne blinks, once, and then she's returning the smile, a jolt of desire slamming down her spine. She goes to take a step forward, then checks herself as something occurs to her. "I'll be right back," she says in a rush, dizzy with inspiration. "Don't you dare finish without me."

It is, Ariadne thinks, a little nonsensically, the first time she's run down a hotel hallway with a dildo in her hand. She would have stuffed it in a bag but she's afraid that if she doesn't hurry she'll miss her moment, that this will turn into some awkward joke.

Eames murmurs approval at the sound of her snapping the harness together; she kicks her pants away and crawls up on the bed behind Arthur as Eames murmurs, "See, told you she'd be back."

"She does that," Arthur smirks, still moving in and out of Eames in long, slow strokes. It's almost like they've eased into a holding pattern, waiting for her, and Ariadne's grateful for that.

Arthur's still fully clothed, only his pants undone and his shirttails out. She runs her hands down his sides, then hooks her fingers in the waistband of his pants, using his movement to help ease them off without breaking his rhythm. Arthur's ass is as good as the wrapping promises, possibly better, she thinks, bending down to bite gently at the curve of it, and for the first time Arthur's hips stutter as he moans quietly. Eames's fingers brush her cheek and she turns her head, sucking on them one at a time and letting him fuck her mouth for a moment, then he's sliding them out with a gentle caress of his thumb before he presses them into Arthur, opening him up for her. Arthur moans again and changes his movement a little, so that now he's pressing into Eames and then pressing back on his fingers, and as Ariadne slicks her dildo with the lube that had been thrown carelessly among the sheets, she thinks, it would almost be worth it just to watch.

Almost.

She rises to her knees behind Arthur, the rub of her shirt against his delicious in its teasing promise as she slides her cock against his cleft, between Eames's hand and Arthur's scrotum, pressing gently against his perineum and enjoying the way his hips stutter. "I want to take you apart," she whispers, stretching as far as she can against his back so that her lips brush against the shell of his ear, and the way Arthur shivers goes straight to her clit. She locks eyes with Eames, who's watching them both hungrily, and then he's slipping his fingers away and holding Arthur's ass steady for her as she presses against his opening, waiting, letting Arthur's movement bring him back to sink down on her cock.

They moan at the same time, Arthur and Ariadne, her hands curling on Eames's thighs as Arthur takes her to the hilt, his head thrown back and cheek pressing against hers. "Oh god," Arthur says, frozen there for a moment, and she can feel Eames watching them both. "Oh god," and he's moving suddenly, leaning forward to fuck deeply into Eames, letting his pace build up now that he's pinned between them.

Clever fingers skate over Arthur's hip and then her own, tracing the sensitive curve where her leg meets her ass before slipping into her cunt. Ariadne sinks her teeth into Arthur's shoulder, her tongue against the clean white of his wrinkling shirt, as she makes eye contact with Eames again. He's smiling up at her predatorily, and she frowns as his hand leaves her, until she realizes that he's pressing soaked fingers against Arthur's mouth, humming encouragement when Arthur licks his hand clean as he slides back onto Ariadne's cock. Eames lets Arthur have his fill, then he's sliding his thief fingers inside her again, this time to stay, pressing deeper every time Arthur pulls off of her so that she's pinned between her cock and her cunt, the same way Arthur's pinned. Eames's thumb flicks against the base of her clit and Ariadne gasps, tightening around his fingers. Every time Arthur rocks back her clit presses between the base of the dildo and Eames's thumb, and that combined with the noises Arthur's making and the weight of Eames's gaze are making her feel almost dizzy with need. "Eames," she gasps, and "Eames," Arthur gasps, lunging forward to catch him in a kiss even as his other hand finds Ariadne's where it's splayed over the forger's hip, and Arthur clings to her for dear life as his hips stutter and then he's coming, Ariadne milking it out of him with long thrusts of her cock and Eames's fingers deep inside of her and his other hand wrapping around her back, pulling her closer so that they've got Arthur trapped between them as he lets out a long, shaky breath and drops his head to Eames's shoulder, his fingers holding to Ariadne's, anchoring him down.

They stay like that for a long moment, Eames's fingers unmoving inside her, the hand that had been on her back now gently caressing Arthur's hair. "Alright?" he murmurs, tender, and even though she's still buried to the hilt in Arthur and has Eames's hand in her cunt, Ariadne suddenly feels as though she's intruding on an intimate moment. She can't move, though, not without wrecking it, and Arthur's hand tightens over Ariadne's as if he's reading her mind.

"M'good," Arthur says, lifting his head to kiss Eames, and that breaks their frozen moment. Arthur's hand--still tangled with hers--comes back to her hip to keep her close as he slips out of Eames, then he's leaning backwards to kiss her, hissing into her mouth as her cock slides free. It feels almost like an apology, a peacemaking of some sort, and Ariadne's not sure what's expected of her as Arthur finally disentangles and flops onto the bed in a boneless, breathless sprawl.

Eames, however, is never without a plan. It's something to remember, she realizes as she catches sight of him rolling a condom over his cock, his fingers shining with her slickness as they stroke his length once, twice, and he's watching her again. "Your turn," he offers, then catches her hand as she reaches for the straps. "Leave it on," he tells her, his voice a low, sultry rumble that makes her shiver all over again.

Ariadne crawls forward to straddle his hips, positioning herself over his cock, but a hand on her hip stops her. "Let me..." Eames seems unable to find the words to articulate his desires, but it works out anyway because his hands are perfectly capable of making his desires known. He traces the straps of her harness, over her hips first, then her ass, then his fingers are sliding along the creases between her legs. He stays there, running his hands along the soft skin of her labia, gently, maddening in their slow worship. His fingers skirt around the base of the dildo, dipping under its edge, never quite touching her clit before they slide back down, feather-light over her perineum and then back again, and Ariadne whines hungrily in the back of her throat. "Eames."

He smiles at her, his lips crooked and dangerous and altogether too satisfied, and then the head of his cock is just barely there, teasing even as Eames runs his fingers over her lips again and again. Ariadne bites her lip, resisting the urge to simply sink down and take him, feeling like she might explode if she tries and like she'll definitely explode if she doesn't. All of the blood in her body feels like it's right between her legs, swelling her lips, making her desperate for release, and she shivers as his thumb just barely misses her clit. " _Eames_."

Eames takes pity on her then, his thumb slipping beneath the dildo to press on her clit, _hard_ , and in the resulting full body spasm he invokes he's seated himself fully in her, hands gripping her hips to hold her down. "Alright, love?" he asks, and Ariadne nods, clinging to his shoulders as he brushes over her clit again. Eames grins, sitting up then so that she's seated in his lap, her cock pressing against his stomach and his hand pinned between them. "Stroke yourself," he murmurs, leaning back to give them both a better angle, and he hums in approval as her fingers wrap around her cock, still slick from fucking Arthur.

Arthur who's there behind her a moment later, his shirt discarded and his chest warm against her back, his arms wrapping around her and holding her up as Eames fucks into her in sure, strong strokes. One hand slips under her shirt to cup her breast, fingers rolling and pinching at her nipple; the other one slides down and replaces Eames's between them, sliding over her clit and providing a counterpoint to the pressure of the dildo as Eames wraps his now free hand around hers and they stroke her cock in unison. She's close, so close, has been maddeningly close since Eames started to trace her labia with his fingers, and Arthur and Eames are unsurprisingly just as good a team in bed as they are in the real world, playing her between them, Arthur's hands on her nipple and clit, Eames's hand on her cock, Arthur's teeth grazing her ear before moving down her neck. And Eames, leaning back on one arm as he thrusts up into her, using Arthur for leverage, his eyes watching her the entire time. _Do you know what it's like to be a lover,_ she hears Mal's voice ask, _half of a whole?_ And caught in the hungry intensity of Eames's gaze, pressed against the warm possessive solidness of Arthur, Ariadne thinks that maybe she will, sooner than she thinks. She tilts her head back and comes in Arthur's arms, on Eames's cock, body shuddering with her release.

Eames sits up then, wrapping her up in his arms as he thrusts into her, chasing the end of her orgasm. Arthur leans over her shoulder and catches him in a kiss as he comes, swallowing Eames's shout, his hand possessive on Ariadne's hip. Ariadne feels caught between them like an insect who suddenly finds itself in a spiderweb, unable to move and unable to fathom how she got there, feeling caught and yet exposed all at the same time.

The moment breaks when Eames drops his head on her shoulder, his arms tightening around her ribs. "Bloody hell," he murmurs, out of breath, and Ariadne thinks with wonder, _I did that._ Arthur nuzzles against her neck on the other side, one hand gently stroking down her ribs, making her shiver, the other one burying itself in Eames's hair. Ariadne leans her cheek against Eames's, tracing the tattoo on his bicep with her fingers and trying not to wonder what happens next.

Once they've started to catch their breath Arthur eases her off of Eames, who sighs as his softening cock slips out of her. Arthur guides her down to the bed and Ariadne lets him, unsure if they'll want her to stay or go. She's maybe in a little bit of shock, she realizes as Eames flops down on his back next to her; she has never in her life considered having a threesome with any seriousness, and never expected herself to jump right in when she stumbled across the offer _in flagrante delicto_.

Eames's chuckle interrupts her thoughts, and she looks over at him as he ties his condom off with shaky hands and chucks it in the direction of the bin. "Well, one thing I'll say about that--no one has to sleep in the wet spot."

Ariadne reaches up to find a pillow to throw at him, but Arthur neatly circumvents her plans by pulling her shirt over her head and off. "Speak for yourself," she mutters instead, and when Eames catches her eye his expression is exactly as filthy and conspiratorial as she's come to expect of him. It grounds her, suddenly, even more so than Arthur curling up behind her, Eames pulling her to his chest and reaching across her to rest his hand on Arthur's hip.

They're all drifting off to sated sleep when a thought occurs to her, and Ariadne snorts. "What?" Arthur murmurs, almost an instinctive reaction that she can only guess is born out of long practice at putting up with Eames's ridiculousness.

"'Dear Penthouse,'" Ariadne says, wrestling with the urge to laugh hysterically. "'I walked into work for a scheduled meeting, just another day at the office. Little did I know that I would find my colleague balls deep in our other colleague--'"

"I told you we had a meeting," Arthur chastises Eames, although his heart is clearly not in it.

"Mmm, did you?" Eames is brimming over with laissez faire innocence, and when Ariadne cranes her neck to look up at him, his eyes are half-lidded, watching her closely. "Seems to have worked out alright."

Ariadne shakes her head, beyond amused, and she would hit him with a pillow if she weren't so comfortable. "Lucky for you," she says, settling her head back onto his shoulder.

"Lucky for both of us," Arthur murmurs into her spine, and she can't argue with that.


End file.
